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All's Well That Ends Well/Act 1
ACT I. SCENE 1. Rousillon. A room in the COUNTESS'S palace. BERTRAM, the COUNTESS OF ROUSILLON, HELENA, and LAFEU, all in black. COUNTESS. :In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband. BERTRAM. :And I in going, madam, weep o'er my father's death anew; :but I must attend his majesty's command, to whom I am now in :ward, evermore in subjection. LAFEU. :You shall find of the king a husband, madam;—you, sir, a father: :he that so generally is at all times good, must of necessity hold :his virtue to you; whose worthiness would stir it up where it :wanted, rather than lack it where there is such abundance. COUNTESS. :What hope is there of his majesty's amendment? LAFEU. :He hath abandoned his physicians, madam; under whose practices he :hath persecuted time with hope; and finds no other advantage in :the process but only the losing of hope by time. COUNTESS. :This young gentlewoman had a father—O, that 'had!' how :sad a passage 'tis!—whose skill was almost as great as his :honesty; had it stretched so far, would have made nature :immortal, and death should have play for lack of work. Would, for :the king's sake, he were living! I think it would be the death of :the king's disease. LAFEU. :How called you the man you speak of, madam? COUNTESS. :He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was his great right :to be so—Gerard de Narbon. LAFEU. :He was excellent indeed, madam; the king very lately spoke :of him admiringly and mourningly; he was skilful enough to have :liv'd still, if knowledge could be set up against mortality. BERTRAM. :What is it, my good lord, the king languishes of? LAFEU. :A fistula, my lord. BERTRAM. :I heard not of it before. LAFEU. :I would it were not notorious.—Was this gentlewoman the :daughter of Gerard de Narbon? COUNTESS. :His sole child, my lord, and bequeathed to my overlooking. I have :those hopes of her good that her education promises; her :dispositions she inherits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for :where an unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there :commendations go with pity,—they are virtues and traitors too: :in her they are the better for their simpleness; she derives her :honesty, and achieves her goodness. LAFEU. :Your commendations, madam, get from her tears. COUNTESS. :'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise in. The :remembrance of her father never approaches her heart but the :tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood from her cheek. No :more of this, Helena,—go to, no more, lest it be rather thought :you affect a sorrow than to have. HELENA. :I do affect a sorrow indeed; but I have it too. LAFEU. :Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead; excessive grief :the enemy to the living. COUNTESS. :If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess makes it soon :mortal. BERTRAM. :Madam, I desire your holy wishes. LAFEU. :How understand we that? COUNTESS. :Be thou blest, Bertram, and succeed thy father :In manners, as in shape! thy blood and virtue :Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness :Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few, :Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy :Rather in power than use; and keep thy friend :Under thy own life's key: be check'd for silence, :But never tax'd for speech. What heaven more will, :That thee may furnish and my prayers pluck down, :Fall on thy head! Farewell.—My lord, :'Tis an unseason'd courtier; good my lord, :Advise him. LAFEU. :He cannot want the best :That shall attend his love. COUNTESS. :Heaven bless him!—Farewell, Bertram. COUNTESS. BERTRAM. :The best wishes that can be forg'd in your thoughts HELENA. :be servants to you! Be comfortable to my mother, your mistress, :and make much of her. LAFEU. :Farewell, pretty lady: you must hold the credit of your father. BERTRAM and LAFEU. HELENA. :O, were that all!—I think not on my father; :And these great tears grace his remembrance more :Than those I shed for him. What was he like? :I have forgot him; my imagination :Carries no favour in't but Bertram's. :I am undone: there is no living, none, :If Bertram be away. It were all one :That I should love a bright particular star, :And think to wed it, he is so above me: :In his bright radiance and collateral light :Must I be comforted, not in his sphere. :The ambition in my love thus plagues itself: :The hind that would be mated by the lion :Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though a plague, :To see him every hour; to sit and draw :His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls, :In our heart's table,—heart too capable :Of every line and trick of his sweet favour: :But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy :Must sanctify his relics. Who comes here? :One that goes with him: I love him for his sake; :And yet I know him a notorious liar, :Think him a great way fool, solely a coward; :Yet these fix'd evils sit so fit in him :That they take place when virtue's steely bones :Looks bleak i' the cold wind: withal, full oft we see :Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly. PAROLLES. PAROLLES. :Save you, fair queen! HELENA. :And you, monarch! PAROLLES. :No. HELENA. :And no. PAROLLES. :Are you meditating on virginity? HELENA. :Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you: let me ask you a :question. Man is enemy to virginity; how may we barricado it :against him? PAROLLES. :Keep him out. HELENA. :But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant in the :defence, yet is weak: unfold to us some warlike resistance. PAROLLES. :There is none: man, setting down before you, will undermine you :and blow you up. HELENA. :Bless our poor virginity from underminers and blowers-up!—Is :there no military policy how virgins might blow up men? PAROLLES. :Virginity being blown down, man will quicklier be blown up: :marry, in blowing him down again, with the breach yourselves :made, you lose your city. It is not politic in the commonwealth :of nature to preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational :increase; and there was never virgin got till virginity was first :lost. That you were made of is metal to make virgins. Virginity :by being once lost may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it :is ever lost: 'tis too cold a companion; away with it! HELENA. :I will stand for 't a little, though therefore I die a virgin. PAROLLES. :There's little can be said in't; 'tis against the rule of :nature. To speak on the part of virginity is to accuse your :mothers; which is most infallible disobedience. He that hangs :himself is a virgin: virginity murders itself; and should be :buried in highways, out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate :offendress against nature. Virginity breeds mites, much like a :cheese; consumes itself to the very paring, and so dies with :feeding his own stomach. Besides, virginity is peevish, proud, :idle, made of self-love, which is the most inhibited sin in the :canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but lose by't: out with't! :within ten years it will make itself ten, which is a goodly :increase; and the principal itself not much the worse: away with :it! HELENA. :How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own liking? PAROLLES. :Let me see: marry, ill to like him that ne'er it likes. 'Tis a :commodity will lose the gloss with lying; the longer kept, the :less worth: off with't while 'tis vendible; answer the time of :request. Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out of :fashion; richly suited, but unsuitable: just like the brooch and :the toothpick, which wear not now. Your date is better in your :pie and your porridge than in your cheek. And your virginity, :your old virginity, is like one of our French withered pears; it :looks ill, it eats drily; marry, 'tis a wither'd pear; it was :formerly better; marry, yet 'tis a wither'd pear. Will you :anything with it? HELENA. :Not my virginity yet. :There shall your master have a thousand loves, :A mother, and a mistress, and a friend, :A phoenix, captain, and an enemy, :A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign, :A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear: :His humble ambition, proud humility, :His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet, :His faith, his sweet disaster; with a world :Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms, :That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he— :I know not what he shall:—God send him well!— :The court's a learning-place;—and he is one,— PAROLLES. :What one, i' faith? HELENA. :That I wish well.—'Tis pity— PAROLLES. :What's pity? HELENA. :That wishing well had not a body in't :Which might be felt; that we, the poorer born, :Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes, :Might with effects of them follow our friends :And show what we alone must think; which never :Returns us thanks. a PAGE. PAGE. :Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you. PAGE. PAROLLES. :Little Helen, farewell: if I can remember thee, I will :think of thee at court. HELENA. :Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star. PAROLLES. :Under Mars, I. HELENA. :I especially think, under Mars. PAROLLES. :Why under Mars? HELENA. :The wars hath so kept you under that you must needs be born :under Mars. PAROLLES. :When he was predominant. HELENA. :When he was retrograde, I think, rather. PAROLLES. :Why think you so? HELENA. :You go so much backward when you fight. PAROLLES. :That's for advantage. HELENA. :So is running away, when fear proposes the safety: but the :composition that your valour and fear makes in you is a virtue of :a good wing, and I like the wear well. PAROLLES. :I am so full of business I cannot answer thee acutely. I :will return perfect courtier; in the which my instruction shall :serve to naturalize thee, so thou wilt be capable of a courtier's :counsel, and understand what advice shall thrust upon thee; else :thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and thine ignorance makes :thee away: farewell. When thou hast leisure, say thy prayers; :when thou hast none, remember thy friends: get thee a good :husband, and use him as he uses thee: so, farewell. Exit. HELENA. :Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, :Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky :Gives us free scope; only doth backward pull :Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull. :What power is it which mounts my love so high,— :That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye? :The mightiest space in fortune nature brings :To join like likes, and kiss like native things. :Impossible be strange attempts to those :That weigh their pains in sense, and do suppose :What hath been cannot be: who ever strove :To show her merit that did miss her love? :The king's disease,—my project may deceive me, :But my intents are fix'd, and will not leave me. Exit. SCENE 2. Paris. A room in the King's palace. of cornets. Enter the KING OF FRANCE, with letters; Lords and others attending. KING. :The Florentines and Senoys are by the ears; :Have fought with equal fortune, and continue :A braving war. FIRST LORD. :So 'tis reported, sir. KING. :Nay, 'tis most credible; we here receive it, :A certainty, vouch'd from our cousin Austria, :With caution, that the Florentine will move us :For speedy aid; wherein our dearest friend :Prejudicates the business, and would seem :To have us make denial. FIRST LORD. :His love and wisdom, :Approv'd so to your majesty, may plead :For amplest credence. KING. :He hath arm'd our answer, :And Florence is denied before he comes: :Yet, for our gentlemen that mean to see :The Tuscan service, freely have they leave :To stand on either part. SECOND LORD. :It well may serve :A nursery to our gentry, who are sick :For breathing and exploit. KING. :What's he comes here? BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES. FIRST LORD. :It is the Count Rousillon, my good lord, :Young Bertram. KING. :Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face; :Frank nature, rather curious than in haste, :Hath well compos'd thee. Thy father's moral parts :Mayst thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris. BERTRAM. :My thanks and duty are your majesty's. KING. :I would I had that corporal soundness now, :As when thy father and myself in friendship :First tried our soldiership! He did look far :Into the service of the time, and was :Discipled of the bravest: he lasted long; :But on us both did haggish age steal on, :And wore us out of act. It much repairs me :To talk of your good father. In his youth :He had the wit which I can well observe :To-day in our young lords; but they may jest :Till their own scorn return to them unnoted, :Ere they can hide their levity in honour :So like a courtier: contempt nor bitterness :Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were, :His equal had awak'd them; and his honour, :Clock to itself, knew the true minute when :Exception bid him speak, and at this time :His tongue obey'd his hand: who were below him :He us'd as creatures of another place; :And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks, :Making them proud of his humility, :In their poor praise he humbled. Such a man :Might be a copy to these younger times; :Which, follow'd well, would demonstrate them now :But goers backward. BERTRAM. :His good remembrance, sir, :Lies richer in your thoughts than on his tomb; :So in approof lives not his epitaph :As in your royal speech. KING. :Would I were with him! He would always say,— :Methinks I hear him now; his plausive words :He scatter'd not in ears, but grafted them :To grow there, and to bear,—'Let me not live,'— :This his good melancholy oft began, :On the catastrophe and heel of pastime, :When it was out,—'Let me not live' quoth he, :'After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff :Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses :All but new things disdain; whose judgments are :Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies :Expire before their fashions:'—This he wish'd: :I, after him, do after him wish too, :Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home, :I quickly were dissolved from my hive, :To give some labourers room. SECOND LORD. :You're lov'd, sir; :They that least lend it you shall lack you first. KING. :I fill a place, I know't.—How long is't, Count, :Since the physician at your father's died? :He was much fam'd. BERTRAM. :Some six months since, my lord. KING. :If he were living, I would try him yet;— :Lend me an arm;—the rest have worn me out :With several applications:—nature and sickness :Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, count; :My son's no dearer. BERTRAM. :Thank your majesty. Flourish. SCENE 3. Rousillon. A Room in the Palace. COUNTESS, STEWARD, and CLOWN. COUNTESS. :I will now hear: what say you of this gentlewoman? STEWARD. :Madam, the care I have had to even your content, I wish :might be found in the calendar of my past endeavours; for then we :wound our modesty, and make foul the clearness of our deservings, :when of ourselves we publish them. COUNTESS. :What does this knave here? Get you gone, sirrah: the :complaints I have heard of you I do not all believe; 'tis my :slowness that I do not; for I know you lack not folly to commit :them, and have ability enough to make such knaveries yours. CLOWN. :'Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor fellow. COUNTESS. :Well, sir. CLOWN. :No, madam, 'tis not so well that I am poor, though many of :the rich are damned: but if I may have your ladyship's good will :to go to the world, Isbel the woman and I will do as we may. COUNTESS. :Wilt thou needs be a beggar? CLOWN. :I do beg your good will in this case. COUNTESS. :In what case? CLOWN. :In Isbel's case and mine own. Service is no heritage: and I :think I shall never have the blessing of God till I have issue of :my body; for they say bairns are blessings. COUNTESS. :Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry. CLOWN. :My poor body, madam, requires it: I am driven on by the :flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives. COUNTESS. :Is this all your worship's reason? CLOWN. :Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons, such as they are. COUNTESS. :May the world know them? CLOWN. :I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you and all flesh :and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry that I may repent. COUNTESS. :Thy marriage, sooner than thy wickedness. CLOWN. :I am out of friends, madam, and I hope to have friends for :my wife's sake. COUNTESS. :Such friends are thine enemies, knave. CLOWN. :Y'are shallow, madam, in great friends: for the knaves come :to do that for me which I am a-weary of. He that ears my land :spares my team, and gives me leave to in the crop: if I be his :cuckold, he's my drudge: he that comforts my wife is the :cherisher of my flesh and blood; he that cherishes my flesh and :blood loves my flesh and blood; he that loves my flesh and blood :is my friend; ergo, he that kisses my wife is my friend. If men :could be contented to be what they are, there were no fear in :marriage; for young Charbon the puritan and old Poysam the :papist, howsome'er their hearts are severed in religion, their :heads are both one; they may joll horns together like any deer :i' the herd. COUNTESS. :Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouth'd and calumnious knave? CLOWN. :A prophet I, madam; and I speak the truth the next way: : For I the ballad will repeat, : Which men full true shall find; : Your marriage comes by destiny, : Your cuckoo sings by kind. COUNTESS. :Get you gone, sir; I'll talk with you more anon. STEWARD. :May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen come to you; of her I :am to speak. COUNTESS. :Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with her; Helen I mean. CLOWN. :Sings. : Was this fair face the cause, quoth she : Why the Grecians sacked Troy? : Fond done, done fond, : Was this King Priam's joy? : With that she sighed as she stood, : With that she sighed as she stood, : And gave this sentence then:— : Among nine bad if one be good, : Among nine bad if one be good, : There's yet one good in ten. COUNTESS. :What, one good in ten? you corrupt the song, sirrah. CLOWN. :One good woman in ten, madam, which is a purifying o' the :song: would God would serve the world so all the year! we'd find :no fault with the tithe-woman, if I were the parson: one in ten, :quoth 'a! an we might have a good woman born before every blazing :star, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery well: a man :may draw his heart out ere he pluck one. COUNTESS. :You'll be gone, sir knave, and do as I command you! CLOWN. :That man should be at woman's command, and yet no hurt done!— :Though honesty be no puritan, yet it will do no hurt; it will :wear the surplice of humility over the black gown of a big :heart.—I am going, forsooth:the business is for Helen to come :hither. Exit. COUNTESS. :Well, now. STEWARD. :I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely. COUNTESS. :Faith I do: her father bequeathed her to me; and she herself, :without other advantage, may lawfully make title to as much love :as she finds: there is more owing her than is paid; and more :shall be paid her than she'll demand. STEWARD. :Madam, I was very late more near her than I think she wished me: :alone she was, and did communicate to herself her own words to :her own ears; she thought, I dare vow for her, they touched not :any stranger sense. Her matter was, she loved your son: Fortune, :she said, was no goddess, that had put such difference betwixt :their two estates; Love no god, that would not extend his might :only where qualities were level; Diana no queen of virgins, that :would suffer her poor knight surprise, without rescue in the :first assault, or ransom afterward. This she delivered in the :most bitter touch of sorrow that e'er I heard virgin exclaim in; :which I held my duty speedily to acquaint you withal; sithence, :in the loss that may happen, it concerns you something to know :it. COUNTESS. :You have discharged this honestly; keep it to yourself; many :likelihoods informed me of this before, which hung so :tottering in the balance that I could neither believe nor :misdoubt. Pray you leave me: stall this in your bosom; and I :thank you for your honest care: I will speak with you further :anon. STEWARD. :Even so it was with me when I was young: : If ever we are nature's, these are ours; this thorn :Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong; : Our blood to us, this to our blood is born; :It is the show and seal of nature's truth, :Where love's strong passion is impress'd in youth: :By our remembrances of days foregone, :Such were our faults:—or then we thought them none. HELENA. :Her eye is sick on't;—I observe her now. HELENA. :What is your pleasure, madam? COUNTESS. :You know, Helen, :I am a mother to you. HELENA. :Mine honourable mistress. COUNTESS. :Nay, a mother. :Why not a mother? When I said a mother, :Methought you saw a serpent: what's in mother, :That you start at it? I say I am your mother; :And put you in the catalogue of those :That were enwombed mine. 'Tis often seen :Adoption strives with nature; and choice breeds :A native slip to us from foreign seeds: :You ne'er oppress'd me with a mother's groan, :Yet I express to you a mother's care:— :God's mercy, maiden! does it curd thy blood :To say I am thy mother? What's the matter, :That this distemper'd messenger of wet, :The many-colour'd iris, rounds thine eye? :Why,—that you are my daughter? HELENA. :That I am not. COUNTESS. :I say, I am your mother. HELENA. :Pardon, madam; :The Count Rousillon cannot be my brother: :I am from humble, he from honour'd name; :No note upon my parents, his all noble; :My master, my dear lord he is; and I :His servant live, and will his vassal die: :He must not be my brother. COUNTESS. :Nor I your mother? HELENA. :You are my mother, madam; would you were,— :So that my lord your son were not my brother,— :Indeed my mother!—or were you both our mothers, :I care no more for than I do for heaven, :So I were not his sister. Can't no other, :But, I your daughter, he must be my brother? COUNTESS. :Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law: :God shield you mean it not! daughter and mother :So strive upon your pulse. What! pale again? :My fear hath catch'd your fondness: now I see :The mystery of your loneliness, and find :Your salt tears' head. Now to all sense 'tis gross :You love my son; invention is asham'd, :Against the proclamation of thy passion, :To say thou dost not: therefore tell me true; :But tell me then, 'tis so;—for, look, thy cheeks :Confess it, one to the other; and thine eyes :See it so grossly shown in thy behaviours, :That in their kind they speak it; only sin :And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue, :That truth should be suspected. Speak, is't so? :If it be so, you have wound a goodly clue; :If it be not, forswear't: howe'er, I charge thee, :As heaven shall work in me for thine avail, :To tell me truly. HELENA. :Good madam, pardon me! COUNTESS. :Do you love my son? HELENA. :Your pardon, noble mistress! COUNTESS. :Love you my son? HELENA. :Do not you love him, madam? COUNTESS. :Go not about; my love hath in't a bond :Whereof the world takes note: come, come, disclose :The state of your affection; for your passions :Have to the full appeach'd. HELENA. :Then I confess, :Here on my knee, before high heaven and you, :That before you, and next unto high heaven, :I love your son:— :My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love: :Be not offended; for it hurts not him :That he is lov'd of me: I follow him not :By any token of presumptuous suit; :Nor would I have him till I do deserve him; :Yet never know how that desert should be. :I know I love in vain, strive against hope; :Yet in this captious and intenible sieve :I still pour in the waters of my love, :And lack not to lose still: thus, Indian-like, :Religious in mine error, I adore :The sun, that looks upon his worshipper, :But knows of him no more. My dearest madam, :Let not your hate encounter with my love, :For loving where you do; but if yourself, :Whose aged honour cites a virtuous youth, :Did ever, in so true a flame of liking, :Wish chastely, and love dearly, that your Dian :Was both herself and love; O, then, give pity :To her whose state is such that cannot choose :But lend and give where she is sure to lose; :That seeks not to find that her search implies, :But, riddle-like, lives sweetly where she dies! COUNTESS. :Had you not lately an intent,—speak truly,— :To go to Paris? HELENA. :Madam, I had. COUNTESS. :Wherefore? tell true. HELENA. :I will tell truth; by grace itself I swear. :You know my father left me some prescriptions :Of rare and prov'd effects, such as his reading :And manifest experience had collected :For general sovereignty; and that he will'd me :In heedfullest reservation to bestow them, :As notes whose faculties inclusive were :More than they were in note: amongst the rest :There is a remedy, approv'd, set down, :To cure the desperate languishings whereof :The king is render'd lost. COUNTESS. :This was your motive :For Paris, was it? speak. HELENA. :My lord your son made me to think of this; :Else Paris, and the medicine, and the king, :Had from the conversation of my thoughts :Haply been absent then. COUNTESS. :But think you, Helen, :If you should tender your supposed aid, :He would receive it? He and his physicians :Are of a mind; he, that they cannot help him; :They, that they cannot help: how shall they credit :A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools, :Embowell'd of their doctrine, have let off :The danger to itself? HELENA. :There's something in't :More than my father's skill, which was the greatest :Of his profession, that his good receipt :Shall, for my legacy, be sanctified :By th' luckiest stars in heaven: and, would your honour :But give me leave to try success, I'd venture :The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure. :By such a day and hour. COUNTESS. :Dost thou believe't? HELENA. :Ay, madam, knowingly. COUNTESS. :Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave, and love, :Means, and attendants, and my loving greetings :To those of mine in court: I'll stay at home, :And pray God's blessing into thy attempt: :Be gone to-morrow; and be sure of this, :What I can help thee to thou shalt not miss. Exeunt. Category:Article Subpages